


Pining and Self Done Handjobs

by MiniCreamPuff



Series: Kinktober 2k19 [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Basically this is a fruits basket au, Kinktober 2019, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, OH LORD, ONLY HUMANS IN THIS, Okay thanks bye', Slow Build, Slow Burn, THERE ARE NO LIKE ANIMALS IN THIS, THEY have the ability to turn into animals BUT, no beta we die like men, oh my lord, ok, they be animals and humans but like, wait okay like let me be clear
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-23 19:14:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21086414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MiniCreamPuff/pseuds/MiniCreamPuff
Summary: There are those born blessed and those cursed to work under them. Ishmael knows this well, he's lived on this island community for years now and is well acquainted with the name of the game. Aleksandr....not so much. So when Aleksandr opens his big mouth again against their God, Ishmael confronts him. Loving someone who can't hold their tongue isn't easy, though Ishmael is sure Aleksandr has no clue about his feelings. Nor the repercussions they would endure should their God find out they've fallen in love with anyone, much less a fellow cursed one....tldr After a slip up when confronting Alek, Ishmael finds he needs to....blow off a little steam.





	Pining and Self Done Handjobs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rawr948](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rawr948/gifts).

> HELLO
> 
> My first, very late Kinktober submission. Prompt is Masturbation.
> 
> Things go from 65 to 100 kind of quick ^^'
> 
> So, for context:
> 
> This functions as a type of Fruits Basket AU for some characters of mine and my friend Rawr.
> 
> Royce, who is mentioned, is the "God."  
Ishmael is a Red Wolf.  
Aleksandr a Komodo Dragon.

The door slammed with a heavy force, the wood creaking for a hot moment before settling in on its hinges. Ishmael was a perfect picture of calm and collected, save for the way his nose moved with each inhale and exhale, frustration clear on his face. He caught the look of small panic on Aleksandr’s face, though it was quickly concealed as the shorter man turned to face him completely. Despite the way Ishmael towered over him, Aleksandr could hold his own, shoulder’s back as he stared defiantly back at the wolf-shifter. If it had been anyone else, Ishmael wondered if he would have maintained such direct eye contact. As it was, the fact he was holding the wolf-shifter’s gaze for so long was a new development, the confrontational attitude bringing a dangerously low growl out of Ishmael’s chest.   
  
“What was that?” Ishmael hissed, pressing a firm hand on Aleksandr’s chest and pressing him against the wall. Despite the bravado, he could feel the way that Aleksandr’s shoulder shook, the slight give Ishmael knew he could use to make him relent in his defiance.

“I’m so sorry I don’t do  _ everything _ her majesty demands.”   
  
“Aleksandr!”

“No!” He pressed forward, the bite in his words worse than the bite of his reptilian form. “Just because you’re a whipped pup doesn’t mean I have to be! She’s evil, Ishmael, she doesn’t deserve our servi-”   
  
Ishmaels hand slammed against the wall, his frame casting a dark shadow upon his fellow guard. What Aleksandr was saying was blasphemy, plain as day. If their God hear any of this, he’d be tortured. Sent into isolation. His heart raced at the notion.   
  
“You  ** _idiot._ ** ” the words were biting, deadly serious. Ishmael had never addressed Aleksandr like this. “Silence yourself. You blubbering-” dark hands pressed harshly into the reptile’s shoulders, sure to bruise as Ishmael shoved Aleksandr against the wall. “You defied her! In open court.”   
  
“She isn’t a queen!” Aleksandr retorted, though the fight was obviously draining from him. Ishmael wasn’t going to relent. 

“She might as well be,” came the reply, though behind the anger there was worry, plain and clear. The idea of Aleksandr’s punishment weighed heavy on the wolf. “You dishonored her. You know she won’t forgive that.”   
  
“She knows I am bad with people,” Aleksandr tried to reason, perhaps a different approach would calm his friend down. Get his temper to cool.   
  
“You think she cares,” Ishmael laughed, but it was desperate, as he pressed his hand to his forehead. Incredulous at the stupidity this- this- this dumb mutt had shown. After being with them so long. He thought Aleksandr was finally starting to learn.   
  


“Why do you care?” Amber eyes stared at hazel once again. Ishmael looked incredulously back at the dejected man before him. “You’re seriously asking that?”   
  
Aleksandr raised his chin, jutting his chest slightly so. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so damned maddening. His habit of fighting back when pushed would get him killed, or worse here. The bastard should know enough to be able to brush it off, but no. Of course he couldn’t. Ishmael cursed the day he had set eyes on the bastard, even more than the day he realized there was something more than friendship between them. 

“You’re so-”   
  
“So... Go on, say it.”   
  
“So fucking stupid.”

“An idiot.”   
  
“Demented asshole. Deathwish having bastard.”   
  
“Now that’s just rude,” Aleksandr crossed his arms. It was true. Ishmael would never have said any of this to anyone else that he could think of.

“If you’d take care of yourself,” Ishmael began, but Aleksandr cut him off, scoffing. “- yes, and who would care?”   
  
There was a long, drawn out silence.

Ishmael grabbed Aleksandr’s chin, tilting it up in a firm grip. None too gentle either. “Fucking. Stupid.”   
  
Aleksandr’s breath was crushed from him as Ishmael’s lips pressed against his, broad fingers gripping him fiercely behind his neck as he held him there. When he was finally released, they hovered only inches away from each other. Aleksandr’s breath was ragged as he stared with wide, terrified eyes at the man before him. Ishmael leaned closer, as if to take his lips again, but there was a flash of hesitance- frustration. His panic mirrored Aleksandr’s. The reptile didn’t know what to say or how to respond. Before he could respond, however, Ishmael pulled completely back and stepped away. He turned tail and rushed out of the room, muttering a slew of words beneath his breath. The two wouldn’t see each other again for another day or two, but Ishmael knew he’d see Aleksandr in his dreams. He usually did, though the dreams hadn’t made sense at first. Now they came with a harsh clarity. Hot touches, breathless moans. Ishmael wanted to shake the thoughts from his mind, but his lips burned with the kiss he’d thrust on Aleksandr and what was sure to follow it. Royce could never know, his heart sank at the mere notion of her finding out. How this day could have turned so quickly he didn’t know. How Aleksandr would react next they met- he groaned in frustration, finally at his chambers and in the privacy of his room. He just hoped he could sleep it off. Sleep it off and in the morning everything would be back to rights.

As if that was meant to be. Nothing would go back to normal. There was no normal for them, Ishmael wasn’t sure he even had a legitimate understanding of what the layman's ‘normal’ entailed, the newer manifestations his only point of reference and nearly all of them younger. As he lay in his bed struggling to sleep, to have a night of dreamless slumber a growing need consumed him. His skin grew flushed, hot and heavy as his blankets tangled themselves around his legs. He woke with a start, a heavy pressure in his groan as he tried to recall the contents of his dreams. Faded memories of his name being called, and the unmistakable sensation of textured skin ghosting on his hands. He bit his lip, slamming his head back onto his pillow, eyes jutted shut. He wouldn’t be able to continue on like this. If his composure- or lack of it, rather, wasn’t enough all the fellow Cursed would smell it on him in an instant. Not just the desire, the  _ need _ that was consuming him, but the faint musk of old leather and a hint of lilac, standard issue scent of the Colony for their kind. It was the leather that would tip them off, especially if Royce ...if she…..

The mix of his lust and the clear evidence of Alek being the only one he had been around, his scent clustered on him, would be a dead giveaway. He tried, tried so hard to think of what he could do but all that happened was his damned brain short circuited and he could only think of what it would be like to have those tanned hands on his chest as he rocked inside Alek’s toned ass, his voice gasping and moaning with it’s Spanish lilt as Ishmael filled him, took him fast and hard and made him his. Before he knew it, Ishmael had slipped a hand beneath the waistband of his own pants, with firm, repetitive strokes he worked himself, turning to his side. His eyes were closed and he could see those cursed amber eyes staring back at him, flustered and unsure and he bit back a moan as he rocked into his hand, gripping a bit firmer, sliding the skin of his shaft along the head of his cock as he imagined Alek calling out to him, begging him to make him-

It was over as quickly as it had started, Ishmael panting as he slowly moved to clean himself up. It was well past midnight, nearing the early morning. He wondered if he’d even be able to get sleep, after taking his shower and ridding himself of the evidence he’d created of his infatuation. He almost thought he should be ashamed to have indulged himself in this way, using Aleksandr to bring himself relief-

He once would have, but not anymore. Not since he’d met Alek and the others. Especially not since he knew Alek reciprocated this- on some level. That gave him hope, though he knew it was dangerous to home. He’d be much better off trying to couple with an outsider, one of the tourists who posed shirtless at the edges of the islands, open for a good time but not a long time. His body warred against that notion. Though Aleksandr and him could never come to fruition, and this would be all he could allow, all he could be blessed with, he accepted it. No other man could sate his desires at this point, and though this weighed on him- though others more wiser than him would tell him to chase these desires and thoughts for Aleksandr out of his mind. It’d be a lot less trouble. To them he said, as Alek would say, fuck off. He played the image of Alek moaning beneath him in his head as he jumped in the shower. This ...this he could indulge himself with. 

This was safe.

Never something he could continue to pursue, but safe nonetheless.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Hope you like it and hope it came out okay >w< Please let me know of any suggestions, improvements, what you like, what you don't!


End file.
